Casual
by Ms Self Destruct
Summary: It's all casual here, and I like it. Strong language, violence, etc. New character. Variety of stories with the Outsiders characters. Will have a dramatic set of endings. Until then, all is casual.
1. Chapter 1

I stepped out of the door and suddenly wished that I had felt more than what I was feeling right now. I should be excited, moving into a different place, with a different name, and a different face.. well, not really. But, I'm having a fresh, clean start, so no one even knew who I was. And now, I don't either.

Maybe I should have worn something more presentable for my first day of school here. I'm pretty skinny, actually kinda lanky for a girl my age, and I don't really eat much. Cigarettes fill me up, but I'm not hooked. I don't need one, I just want one. Come to think of it, I don't even remember why or when I started. I just can't stop, now.

Walking to school, I must have looked over my attire a thousand million times. A tight, long-sleeved white shirt in the fall. It was made outta some cheap material, though, so it was pretty airy, and had two neat holes symmetrically at each end just past the stretch of my collarbone. This didn't reveal my locket that I kept hidden away underneath my shirt, but it was tight, the thin silver chain was visible. That went along with a pair of tight jeans, but they were kinda low so a flash of my hipbones would surface every now and then. I liked them, though, so I didn't mind. I guess I don't really dress girly, but I'm not here to impress anyone. This could be putting up a flag to get everyone to leave me alone, this time.

Speaking of my lack of girliness, my hair is actually kinda short too. Not boy-short, just cropped off unevenly, shoulder-length, when I got sick of thinking that he would ever touch and smell my hair again. As much as I try to stray from not looking like someone wants me to, I'm doing the exact opposite yet doing the same exact thing that I don't want at the same time. I can never win.

I think too much whenever I think about my looks. I do take care of myself, though. A little eyeliner, but I don't need it. Long eyelashes bordered my cold, sad eyes. I wish someone would notice them someday. But at the same time, I don't.

The walk to school was longer than I had expected. It looked as crummy as the rest of the neighborhood, but at the same time, I kind of felt like home. It was bigger than it should have been, though. Bunch of guys were hanging around in the court, some pressing girls up against the wall while their crusty eye-makeup fluttered shamelessly at their pick-up lines, followed by maybe a hand creeping up a thigh or a nasal, fake giggle. It's probably better that I don't dress girly.

Since I'm just coming here, at the end of first marking period, people definitely won't recognize me. "The New Girl in Town", I guess. Some people looked like they wanted to approach me, but I glanced at them without smiling. So they didn't smile back.

I didn't really know where to go, but I wasn't about to ask for help. Especially not from a teacher, so I pulled out some crumpled papers from my pocket and read the faded text as if it were some Alien Language. I knew I was looking like that, so someone probably would try to help me anyway. Maybe I wanted help.

A kid.. no, a man with long sideburns and a leather jacket wasn't the first one to notice the way I looked, but the first one to approach me. He had laughter in his eyes, and cocked his rust-colored eyebrow when he noticed I was observing him. Probably trying to look cool, but it was kind of funny.

"You lookin' like you've just read some kind'a Chinese, or somethin'." He had a soft grin forming, and I wanted to grin, too.

"Maybe I'm in the wrong place. Or the wrong country." I kind of meant that, partially. Taking another glance around, all of the girls were either really nice and prepped up for some kind of formal I didn't know about, or just anxious to get on the corner later tonight. He stepped to my side, observing the crumpled up paper, cocking his eyebrow again. He seemed like he practiced. I felt him looking at me more than he was the paper. I probably just looked odd and interesting. To a basket case.

"Well, you do look exotic. You aren't from around here, I can tell that." I looked up at him. Exotic? What a nutjob. A smaller boy half-heartedly ran up and grinned up at the man that was talking to me. He was still taller than me, but not by much. He looked as if he were about to say something, but then stopped when he saw me, and looked almost confused. To cover it up, though, he turned back to the man as quickly as he could and calmed down suddenly.

"Hey, Two-Bit, we gotta sub' today!" He glanced back at me, and noticed I was staring at him. He had green eyes. But I looked back to the man.

"Lucky us. I can't stand Mr. Martin's lectures anymore than I can stand Sodapop's meatloaf.. or the way Steve makes the bathroom after he dares touch that wondermeat." He held his stomach as if he just got done eating the food. I finally cocked an eyebrow, but not as if I was practicing all my life to. It just came naturally. Both of them laughed, and I grinned softly. The boy was handsome, while the man was almost goofy-looking compared to him. But in a comfortable way.

He noticed that I wasn't bending over in maniacal laughter like they were, so he softened up and turned to me. "By the way, I'm Two-Bit." He held out his hand, and with his other, jabbed his thumb over to the younger one's direction. "That there's Ponyboy." I held out my hand for a second, looking at both of them, and he shook it. I secretly wondered if they had a club where they thought up weird nicknames for eachother.

"Is that--.."

"Yeah, it's my real name. Two-Bit's just nick-named Two-Bit 'cuz of his Two-Bit humor, always putting his Two-Bits into everything. But my real name is Ponyboy." He said that last part almost as if he had said it a million times before. I felt kind of embarrassed for asking, because he felt kind of embarrassed for saying it. I glanced at my old sneakers for a second, and noticed his were old, too. Maybe even older than mine.

"Wull, hey, whadd'ya know! You have Mr. Martin with us, too." When Two-Bit shook my hand, he must have grabbed my schedule when I wasn't paying attention. Smooth, for such an oaf.

"Uh--.." I got cut off once again, but this time, by the Bell. Two-Bit gave a look of fake horror and started half-heartedly bolting towards his class, and since he said I had the same class as him and Ponyboy, I reluctantly followed.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. It may be a foreign land, and I may be exotic, but I feel like I can learn their language just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

I entered the class late, along with Ponyboy and Two-Bit. Ponyboy bolted for dear-life, so it seemed, but he wasn't out of breath afterwards, either. He must be pretty athletic. Even though Two-Bit wasn't even running as fast as he could, he seemed like he was about to flop on the floor cold.

"Why are you late, Keith!?" The "substitute" seemed quite familiar with.. whoever Keith was. Was she talking to Two-Bit?

"Huh, why are ya' just lookin' at me!?" He looked as if he were a cornered rat. But deep down, I knew he didn't really care if he got sent out or not. He was probably playing it off for his own amusement, but I wouldn't let on that I knew.

"Because Ponyboy is a good student, and you are a horrible influence! Ponyboy, you really should find better friends.." Ponyboy looked down, and his ears were red. I almost smiled at this situation. He was cute.

"Nah, really, Miss Watson, it's alright. We just got a little hung up, helping this girl find her class.." Ponyboy stated, and Two-Bit's shoulders relaxed as if his words were that of a peacemaking God. The uptight, shriveled up old woman's frown turned slightly upward.

"Well, alright, Pony.. if you say so." All the while, the entire class was staring at me. I guess I hadn't noticed that much. I must really look weird compared to all of the other girls. What other girl wears heavy eyeliner like mine without looking like a total sleeze? Maybe I do and I just don't notice it like they don't. The prune observed me as if I were some kind of unidentified specie, and I almost wanted to squirm.

"If you're a new student, then just pick a seat." I looked around, and I wanted to sit next to Two-Bit or Ponyboy, and suddenly noticed -- Two-Bit was like, nineteen or twenty years old, at least by his looks. Why is he in class with such a young kid? I snickered out loud. "...When you're ready!"

I suddenly noticed that I was holding the whole class up. I raised my eyebrows a bit, slightly embarrassed, but I didn't want to show it. I spotted a couple of empty seats in the back, second best to sitting next to Two-Bit or Pony. Pony... what a funny nickname.

I found reasons to think of anything other than Biology. Mitosis meant nothing to me. It's not like I'm going to become some scientist or doctor when I grow up, so I just stared at the window. I wondered why Ponyboy was so excited to have a sub like her. Lord only knows what the actual teacher is like. With that thought, I slumped in my chair.

These were the longest twenty minutes of my life, until..

The door almost dramatically busted open, and the prune jumped, startled at the sudden noise. I was pretty surprised, too, like everyone else, except Two-Bit. He simply leaned back more, and I couldn't see his face, but I bet he was grinning. A tow-headed blonde entered as if he were almost being pushed into the room, and he quickly retaliated with a quick spurt of violence, but it was only a threat. He didn't actually hit whomever threw him in there.

"Caught him smoking out in the courtyard, with a can of spray-paint near the Vice-Principal's car. We'll deal with him later, we gotta calm down the Vice-Principal first." A man with a deep voice said, but I couldn't see him, and didn't care. I was too busy observing the teen that just busted in.

He was wearing nice leather. You could tell it was a nice jacket just by the look of it, but by the looks of the rest of him you knew he stole it. Plus, it was kinda big on him -- I could tell by his legs that he was lanky like me. Who wears a thick leather jacket when it's only breezy out anyway? He had a scowl that seemed to be carved into stone on his pale but reddened face. I wonder if it was red out of hatred. But when he was calm, I bet it was as white as milk. Glancing over at Two-Bit, though, that convincing scowl twisted into some kind of wretched grin.

"Damn, Dal, can't stay still! You just got outta' the cooler two weeks ago." Two-Bit bragged to the whole world. The blonde lifted his chin up in triumph, as if Two-Bit were praising him. They both seemed like he was. That cold-hearted grin lasted, until the prune straightened her throat.

His eyes were made of ice. Cold, blue ice that creeped over to the corners of their cages, then leading his neck to turn along with them. He merely looked at the old woman, and she stiffened -- not because she was just a stiff bitch, but because she was scared. I was intrigued. He then turned, and approached me. Well, not me, but something near me. I couldn't figure out what, but I tried not to stare. I noticed he noticed me, though, and I looked at him non-chalantly as half the class stared. I could look real cool if I wanted to.

He loudly flopped into his chair and shoved the desk out in front of him, propping up his unpresentable shoes, with dried up mud.. or was that blood? on them. He looked at me again. Now he was in the way of my window. So I just tried to look interested in the class. Another twenty minutes passed, and Two-Bit's snoring was interrupted by a crack of a ruler on top of his desk. I lightly grinned.

"New kid on the block?" The voice was sudden, so I almost froze. But I knew which direction it came from, so I guess that's why I froze.

"New kid on the planet." I'm pretty sarcastic when I want to be cool. Like Two-Bit, but you could tell it was in his blood by his eyes. I was referring back to Two-Bits "exotic" comment, anyway. I glanced over at him, and his looks haven't softened one bit. The blonde's eyes were made of ice, no matter what tone he spoke in.

"No 'coming in peace' here, Alien. You come in peace and you come in pieces around here." He grinned, as if he was witty and normally didn't think up smart-cracked comments. His voice was young, but sort of deep and just as cold as his eyes. My eyes grinned, but my mouth didn't.

"I guess spray painting cars and startling prunes is what you Earthlings do around here." I don't know why I was going along with it, but it seemed more interesting than Meiosis. At first, when I mentioned the spray paint, his brows furrowed, and then he seemed confused when I mentioned him startling that prune. But then his eyes suddenly expressed that he understood, and he grinned and even laughed a little. It wasn't as harsh of a laugh as I would have thought. I grinned. I think he didn't want to laugh, though, because he suddenly turned around and stayed silent the rest of the class, just lounging.

The period was over a little after that, and Two-Bit never seemed happier. He gave Ponyboy a noogie on the way out, mumbling something about getting his hopes up for that substitute. He glanced back and gave me a wave and a grin, and I flashed him a short-lived smile. I didn't see either of them the rest of the day, and I just had remembered that he didn't even learn my name.


	3. Chapter 3

Before I knew it, the week went by fast. I never really talked to anyone; no one interesting, anyway. If I don't think you're interesting, then I won't talk to you. But I've already been noticing all of the trends and all of the guts of this school. Apparently, if you live around here, you're either a Soc, or a Greaser. There's some middle people who try to be one or the other, but they're just the nobodies. The real interesting people were the somebodies. So I observed them the most.

Turns out, the neighborhood I live in is real crummy. It looks it, but I never figured that so many gang fights happened. Almost every Friday, someone new gets shot or loses some teeth. And everyone talks about it as if it were the Daily News, all casual. I liked it. I liked everything being casual.

I also figured out that the blonde kid's name was Dallas Winston. He's apparently real famous around here, for all the wrong reasons. I didn't see him in class after that day to really learn anymore about him. I didn't know if it was because he was suspended again, or if he was just skipping class. But then again, with the teachers, I could understand that. I'll probably start skipping sometime soon, too; everything was just crummy around here.

Every now and then I would be mistaken for a 'Greaser', for my lack of caring about my attire. Sure, I wore tight stuff, and even now and then would wear a girly shirt, but I always wore jeans. I owned a few high-cut jean skirts, but those were only for special occasions. Dirty sneakers and hair that wasn't perfect automatically labels you a Greaser around here, from what I've learned. I've been humoring myself with the thought of spit-shining my shoes in front of the next person who calls me a Greaser, and combing down my hair. It kind of looks untamed, but it doesn't look dirty or messy. Just wild.

Have you ever looked at someone before and imagined that in some other life that they were an animal? Or they are now? Not in a primal sense, just in a pitiful one.

That's what I immediately thought, when I met Johnny.

I knew he was friends with Ponyboy and Two-Bit, and he was in my Math class, 'cuz well, I'm not very good at Math and he isn't, either. He sat in the back, next to me for a week without saying a word, but I knew he looked at me from time to time. He was probably wondering if I was a greaser. I wear such weird clothes, though, I could get confused with a bum who dresses herself in the dark. I think the day I finally talked to him, I was wearing tight, torn plaid jeans -- talk about tacky, but I liked it -- and some random tight blue shirt. Maybe my style scares people. But, Johnny always looked scared.

Since he was friends with.. well, the only couple of interesting people in the school (and I also knew that he was friends with Dallas Winston), I'm sure he was interesting too. Behind those terrified, pitiful eyes, there was something that anyone could love. Or at least, feel sorry for. I just wasn't sure exactly what.

"Psst. Ya' know the answer to number one?" I waited for an answer. At first, he didn't know I was talking to him, but when he did, he recoiled suddenly and observed his paper quickly as if it had the meaning of life written on it in Jesus Christ's blood. He found nothing.

"Uh.. nah, sorry." His voice was a little shaky at first, but he managed to crack a small grin. I grinned back, to make him feel comfortable, and plus, I just wanted to.

"What about number two?" I knew the answer to that question, too, but I just wanted to keep a conversation. It sucks asking a question that someone doesn't know the answer to, and then staying silent. Especially someone that seemed in desperate need of conversation; he was a real quiet kid.

"I.. don't really get this stuff." He seemed slightly embarrassed at that, but I just grinned again.

"Me neither." I then leaned back in my chair, and tried to look a little cooler than I was. I really need to work on being girly.. but he laughed. It was silent for a moment, and when I glanced back at him, he was staring. So he immediately tried to think of something.

"..You're new, huh?" Well, I could tell he didn't talk much. I was sitting next to him for an entire week, a week of complete silence, and now he asks. I laughed a little. He seemed confused, but knowing at what I was laughing at the same time.

"It doesn't take long to get used to this place." I relaxed and sunk into my chair. Thinking back on my words, I wondered if it was a good or bad thing. He gave me a warm smile, as if he knew what I was thinking and he was reassuring me, and from then on we'd have short and sweet small talks every class. He may not be the smartest kid academically, and he may be a social hermit, but he's a good kid. Behind those sick, puppy dog eyes, he's kinda cute, especially with all that hair in his face. Not like a Beatles haircut, but he didn't pull it back with a bunch of grease.

I used to wonder, before I started talking to him, why he had perfect attendance. Why he was always praised and pitied by everyone. He did look pitiful, but it wasn't that obvious. Why was he held up by everyone, even the Greasers -- with the exception of the Socs -- and then I knew why, just by talking to him. Why he always came to school, to get away..

His eyes were too simple for me, though; Johnny Cade could be a best friend of mine a million times over, but I would never find a peaking interest in him. I didn't think we'd get that close anyway, but really, he was the closest thing I had aside from Two-Bit and Pony.


	4. Chapter 4

After that week, where I got to talk to most of the 'gang', I didn't end up wanting to go home. Two-Bit wound up eventually asking me to come skip with him, Johnny, and Dallas one day. He managed to drag Pony along, too, even though he kept on rambling about how he was going to get caught and get it from his brother. I wondered why he didn't say mother or father, maybe they didn't care like Johnny's and my parents. Or maybe, they just weren't around.. I didn't ask.

Dallas didn't show up, even though he was supposed to be skipping with us. We met at the corner of the courtyard near the gate, and jumped the fence right before the lunch bell rang. Johnny asked why Dallas wasn't around, and Two-Bit simply stated,

"He'll show up."

I felt like I was the only one comfortable; me being a girl and all, it seemed that Two-Bit was really the only person to fully accept that I was getting closer to all of them. Except Dallas. We walked up to the Pop Shop, which was apparently a huge hang-out for kids after school. And delinquents during school.

"I don't have any money." I said, once I sat in the booth, realizing that the prices were relatively cheap, but I had absolutely nothing. The boys snickered, but Two-Bit laughed the most.

"It's on me." He gave me a wink. Pony grinned and stared out the window. I wondered what was going on, why they were laughing, but I didn't think much of it.

The waitress came and everyone set their orders, I just asked for a coke. Two-Bit acted as if I talked Chinese when I said I didn't want anything else.

"Huh?! Come on, I said it's on me.. go on and order, it's all shabby." He must have thought I was being self-conscious or something. If I was hungry, I would eat.

"I'm just not hungry." Turning to the waiting waitress with a creepy smile on her face. "Don't worry about it, it's all I'm getting."

I turned to stare at the window, while the boys talked about a bunch of different random things. Mainly it was just Two-Bit rambling on about random things, but the boys always went along with it and replied with just as abstract things. Johnny was the most quiet, as always, aside from me. I was secretly wondering if I had looked nice today. I was wearing a tight shirt, and it was low-cut -- I had some cleavage, who knew? But it wasn't as generous as most of the other girls' shirts were, probably half as generous. I'm surprised I'm not in France on a nude beach half the time when I stroll around at night..

"What'cha thinkin' about?" Two-Bit's words stopped my stream of thoughts. I glanced back, and realized that Dallas was sitting on a chair that he had snagged from the other table. He looked bored, I don't know when he got there.

"Most of you seem uncomfortable with me here." Dallas looked up when I said it, and I looked directly at him, boldly.

"Huh? No one's uncomfortable.." Two-Bit looked around as if he were to double-check. Johnny and Pony were both looking at me, now, and Dallas was wadding up spitballs, and aiming.

"I don't mean that I'm a burden or anything, it's just that.. I'm a girl. I'm not a Greasy girl, but I'm not a Soc, either. And I'm not a girlfriend of any of yours.. I'm pretty sure you guys think it's weird, right?"

"Well, to tell ya' the truth, I kind'a consider you one of the guys.." Two-Bit grinned, and Dallas laughed out loud. Pony's eyes widened and Johnny suddenly looked at me as if I were going to kill Two-Bit. I didn't take it as an insult, because I knew Two-Bit didn't mean it as an insult. Or maybe he was testing me to see if I really was a girl, and had a real girly temper.

"Why? Because I don't wear my skirts short enough to let the whole neighborhood know exactly what and when and who I did the night before, or because I don't bother to put on eight pounds of make-up to just scrape it off before I move onto the next man-of-the-week?" My words kind of flowed. Two-Bit's eyebrows raised, and he had a wide grin. Johnny silently laughed, and Dallas acted uninterested. Pony seemed worried, he didn't grasp that neither of us were really being that serious.

"He didn't really mean it-.. ..." He paused very long, looking at me, then looking down at his hands. He was thinking intently on something. But he realized what he was doing and suddenly picked himself up, but it was too late. I knew something caught him up. "He was just saying that you aren't .. well.. you aren't like a lot of girls around here. Most girls just want to.. I don't know, get with guys or play with their heads. You're a friend of ours, kind of like a guy friend, but he didn't mean it like that." He could have went on even longer, but I already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

Dallas got through two straw-wrappers and was working on the third one, all were emptied out in the back of some old guy's head in the form of spitballs. He spit out another spitball at him and as the guy turned around and got up quickly, Dallas turned and looked directly at me with a straight face so as to seem unsuspicious.

"Who are you, anyway?"

So that's what they were all wondering. My name. I laughed out loud, because I never realized that out of the entire week and a half I had known them, none of them knew my name. I don't even think my own teachers knew, come to think of it.

"Tobe."

It seemed like it had just now hit Two-Bit that he didn't know my name. Then, he seemed confused.

"Tobe? Is that a nickname?"

"Nope, it's my full name, T - O - B - E." He could sense the sarcasm in my voice, so he leaned in and raised his eyebrows.

"Tabatha? Your name's Tabatha, isn't it?"

"Heck no! I would slap my mother in her grave if she ever named me Tabatha." I said that kind of fast, but Two-Bit laughed a little uneasily, while Ponyboy stiffened, and Dallas turned to look at me for a second.

"Tuba? Tammy? Tooth Fairy?" I laughed at his guesses.

"October."

"... Oh, well, that makes sense."

What else that made sense, was, that I got exactly what Two-Bit meant by "it was on him." When everyone was done eating, we ran out of there without paying the check, but Two-Bit couldn't help but leave a tip to the "cute" waitress.


	5. Chapter 5

Before I knew it, I saw them everyday in school, at lunch, and after school. I didn't see Dally as much as I'd prefer, something was going on with him and this guy named Tim Shepard. I heard he slashed his tires, or something, and was told to stay away from him by Ponyboy to keep myself safe for the next week. It's not like I ever see Dallas outside of school, anyway -- at least, not alone. I kind of wanted to, but I felt like he hated me, so I didn't bother putting up an effort.

It really helped the time pass, because I never came home until around midnight or even later anyway. Just didn't want to come back home. Don't ever want to see his face..

Of course, I didn't hang out with them after dark. I'd watch them play football and Two-Bit would crack jokes about how he'd want me to be the cheerleader, but he knew that wouldn't happen in a million years. I realized by being out in the sun so much that my hair wasn't black. It was a dark cola. I wondered if it was because I was out in the sun so much, or simply because I never went outside much unless it was dark until I met them all. My hair was getting longer already, but I don't pay too much attention to those things.

One day when I was walking around, where I would normally find the gang on the weekends, no one was there. I sat in the open field, sticking a crumpled cigarette in my mouth and letting it dangle between my lips. I ripped out some grass out of boredom, and carefully tied the blades into bows. Destruction for beauty.. why do I always think so deeply about nothing?

I heard screaming just down the street. Then a door slam, so I stood up, suddenly feeling a chill down my spine. I don't know if it was because I knew what was coming, or if it was because of the cold wind catching up on me; winter was coming much, much sooner than I had expected..

It was Johnny. Stumbling into a run, as if he had a knife in his side. Thankfully, he didn't. I took a few fast steps towards him, and he didn't see me, but it seemed like he were running as if gravity itself were pulling him to me. So, I began to run. I didn't mean to really say anything, but it just blurted out.

"Johnny!" I called, and the cigarette almost fell out of my mouth. One quick last drag, and I tossed it to the ground, and he looked up at me, then looked down, ashamed. I stopped. There was blood going down his face, and I felt my jaw drop. He wasn't crying, but he looked like he was going to. So I started running again, until I reached his side.

He turned away from me. "Hey, Tobe.." His voice was shaking. I looked around for a minute, and realized that his parents did this to him, not Socs. I felt a lump in my throat, and my stomach jolted like I was going to get sick. But, I didn't. It was just harder for me to speak, and my voice was shaky, too.

"What happened..?" I could have kicked myself for asking. It was the only thing that came out, but maybe he wanted to talk about it. Maybe he wanted me to know.

He paused real long. It seemed like it was an eternity until he replied, and my face was on fire. Not too sure why, but the wind made my hair cover most of it.

"My folks.." He forced a harsh laugh. "It's cool." He turned back to me, and winced as if me seeing him all beaten up and sore hurt him worse than the beating itself. He must have felt embarrassed. A grin formed, and I heard his hands patting against his thighs against old, soft denim. He looked down. I was almost as tall as him, and when he slouched, I was.

"Hey... you're bleedin' pretty bad, there..." I straightened my throat. "We gotta get you to Pony's. He lives 'round here, right?" I'd never been to Pony's house. I just knew that he lived near Johnny and the park that we were in. Johnny nodded, and I gently put my hand on his shoulder. He flinched, so I retreated, but didn't want him to notice that I noticed so I put it back on his shoulder a little more roughly. He looked up at me kind of oddly, as if I were a different specie. Right.. I'm a girl.. it's weird if I put my hand on his shoulder, right? So I grinned and stared at my sneakers for a second. "You'll be okay in no time."

We got to Ponyboy's house, but no one was there. They left the door open, and Johnny explained to me that it's not unusual, and that they always leave the door open in case a friend needed a place to cool off, or a hideout.

"Maybe we should leave.." Johnny suggested. We both were standing in the doorway. I yelled out to see if anyone was home, but it was to no avail.

"It's alright. He has brothers, too. One of them should be here soon, and I'll explain when they get here." I reassured him, and looked around for a bathroom. Johnny then lead the way, and I started running the water, and grabbed a rag for him. The water was cold, which felt good on my hands but would feel better on Johnny's head. His lip was swollen and busted, too, but I was more worried about his bleeding head. Some of his hair stuck to his forehead from the blood that was beginning to dry; he needed more than just a wet rag, but I handed it to him, anyway.

I noticed that he was looking in a mirror, almost terrified, but as if he had seen it a million times. I know how he felt, but I didn't want to tell him that. I swallowed, and looked at myself. _Man, I look lousy_, I thought. A tight black tank and dirty, ripped jeans. No wonder people mistook me for a greaser. My clothes may be dirty, but my body is clean. Then I felt like an asshole, because I realized how lousy Johnny looked -- I worry about myself too much.

After Johnny had gotten halfway cleaned up, I already had out the alcohol and cotton balls when I heard the screen door slam. I heard some voices, and with a cotton ball dabbed with alcohol in hand, I stepped out of the bathroom into the living room. A tall, well-built man with eyes as hard as his body looked at me, confused and concerned.

"Who are you?" He asked before I could give an explanation. I felt embarrassed, and didn't really want to explain anymore.

"...Hey, Tobe..." Ponyboy surfaced from behind the superman-like figure. He seemed confused, and my eyes widened at the sight of his bloody neck.

"Pony, are you.."

"Johnny?" The muscular man bolted over to where he had seen the bathroom door opened, and Johnny all beaten up inside. He was interrogating Johnny, eyes not as hard as they were a second ago. He must be Ponyboy's brother.

"Johnnycake?" A more innocent voice spoke. It was a slender, handsome teen -- a practical heartthrob, I might add. He looked a lot like Ponyboy, except older, and had brown eyes instead of green. He ran over to Johnny, whom was promising both of them already that he was alright. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, like I didn't belong there. Pony noticed that I was staring at my sneakers, thumbs in my pockets, my fist cupping the cotton ball as if it were my worst enemy. So I looked up and spoke.

"Ponyboy, are you okay?" He was observing Johnny from afar, and then rubbed his neck nervously when I asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Is Johnny.."

"He's okay. Had something going on with his folks.." Pony looked down suddenly. "Well, um.. I guess since you guys are here now, I'll get going.." I reluctantly started towards the door, looking back at Johnny, and he didn't notice me.

"Whoah, whoah, whoah, where you goin', lil' missy?" A familiar voice spoke. Two-Bit! I smiled a little.

"I was just takin' care of Johnny until y'all came back, so.." Two-Bit raised his arm up as if he were a cross guard and told me to stop, while shaking his head.

"You're just as welcome here as I am." My mouth opened a little bit before I spoke, and my eyes narrowed accusingly.

"It's not like you live here." I laughed a little.

"He practically does!" The handsome teen suddenly bolted past me and jumped onto Two-Bit in the doorway, managing to get the jokester in a headlock and noogie his swirly, greasy hair. Two-Bit gave him a few punches to the shoulder, and he let go. Both of them were grinning at me, they seemed a lot alike. But, the other teen seemed as if he were born to be happy. Happy, sappy, and sweet -- his brown eyes almost looked like..

"I'm Sodapop." He held out his hand, and I laughed out loud, on accident. He must have thought I was laughing at his name, so I felt dumb, and immediately forced my name out, since it was almost as unique.

"I'm October." I shook it; his hands were sweaty and hot. One of his knuckles was bleeding.. or had blood on it, and once he realized that I saw, he quickly pulled away.

"Oh, uh, don't get me wrong, I uh!" He laughed. "Pony here got into a little of trouble, and see, me, Darry, Two-Bit and Dally helped out."

Darry? I wondered. Oh, Superman. Speaking of which, he returned from the bathroom with Johnny. Pony looked down again, embarrassed.

"Did they pull a knife on him?" I saw his neck well, it was a clean cut. I looked back at Sodapop, and he seemed surprised. I hate being a girl, all of the guys always consider me an innocent prude that doesn't know anything about fights or getting jumped or anything. I realized that the cotton ball was still in my other hand.

"..Yeah. But we got there just in time, huh, kiddo?" Sodapop gave him a loving noogie. I grinned; his knuckles must be greasy enough to glide on doing handstands from all that noogying of the gang.

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, Soda.." Pony gave him a soft punch in the ribs, and Soda let go.

"Sorry about that earlier," Darry was talking to me. I tried to look more serious, like he did. "I just didn't know who you were, and some random girl in my house just has to make me wonder.." Soda snickered. I wanted to, too. It was kind of funny.

"It's fine, I understand."

"October, right?" He held out his hand.

"Yeah. Tobe, too." I shook his hand; it was rough and calloused, and much bigger than mine.

"I'm Darry. Pleasure to meet you." He almost sounded like a businessman.

"Darry, this ain't no business interview; you ain't gotta be so proper." Two-Bit cackled behind me, after speaking my own thoughts. I smiled, and pulled my hand away. I turned to Two-Bit, and the door was still open. It was real dark outside.

"I should get going. It's dark."

"You live around here?" Sodapop had disappeared for a second, but reappeared with a slice of chocolate cake, which he was dousing with sugar, and about to eat with his hands.

"Yeah, just around six blocks away."

"Won't your folks be mad if you get home so late?" Two-Bit's words synchronized with his exhale of smoke.

"..Nah, it's alright." I felt as if everyone was staring at me, and I almost clammed up.

"Want us to walk you home?" Sodapop managed while swallowing a bite of his chocolate-and-sugar-cake.

"Ponyboy has homework to do." Darry stated, leaving Ponyboy out, while Ponyboy negotiated with him in whines and groans.

"I'll be fine." I'm out every night, but they didn't know that. Nothing bad has happened to me then. I stepped out the door, past Two-Bit, and suddenly remembered how cold it was. I shivered.

"Hope you get better, Johnny. I'll see you guys tomorrow." I waved as I turned and began walking.

"Ni'sh meeting ya', Tobe!" I could tell it was Soda's voice. What a cute kid.

I remembered after I was a block away from their house that Two-Bit said Dally had helped Pony get out from getting jumped, by no other than the Socs. Even though they didn't mention that part, I knew it already. Dally's back again, from hiding wherever he was hiding. ..No.. Dallas Winston doesn't hide, he just disappears because he can't show face for a little while. Maybe I'll run into him. I halfway hoped I didn't, and the other half of me wanted to see him. Cold-hearted, tow-headed delinquent..


	6. Chapter 6

**Note:** In this chapter, it's mainly surrounded around Tobe and Two-Bit. Sorry, Dally/Pony/Soda/Johnny fans. Everyone will come back next chapter.

* * *

Nothing really happened after that. At least, for an entire week, everything became routine. It was still fun and all, but I wanted some action. The gang gets into fights every now and then, and maybe I want to get into a fight, too. I've been in a few, but I'm a girl, so I guess I can't. Unless I pick a fight with a Socy girl, now that would be funny.

The winter formal was coming up, and I laughed at the thought of everyone dressing up. What they consider 'formal' is probably something along the lines of a nicer leather jacket, and more grease in their hair than normal. I wouldn't have a date if I went, so I didn't give it too much thought of me going, but daydreaming was nice.

"Winter Formal -- No casual wear! No weapons, no fights! Breaking these rules will result in maximum consequences." Two-Bit read aloud, mockingly, as he danced around the lunch table. No casual wear? Fuck that. "Who's goin'?" Two-Bit asked.

"I don't know.. I might go." Pony stated between bites of his school wondermeat sandwich. For such a slender kid, he can eat like a horse.

"What about you, Johnnycake?"

"I don't know, Two-Bit.. I don't got any nice clothes." His lip was still cut a little from last week's incident.

"Aw, come on, guys. It'll be fun! Something always goes down at our formals; a fight, maybe meeting some new girls, or just dancing and hangin'." Two-Bit looked to me, almost pleadingly. He wanted some company there, but there was going to be a million people there, so I don't see why.

"C'mon, Tobe, I'd love to see you in a pink, frilly dress." Two-Bit waggled his eyebrows. Ponyboy snorted while sucking on his chocolate milk through a straw, and coughed. I flipped Two-Bit a friendly finger.

"She'd be a spicy lil' mama in a fiery red, huh Johnny?" He was grinning wildly. He knew I hated it, and my face was on fire. "What about blue? A sky blue dress, and maybe she should dye her hair blonde to be a Cinderella in the works." He burst out laughing himself, and continued. "Hey, where's your evil stepsisters?! Can't wait to see you arrive in your pumpkinmobile!" He fell out of his seat, rolling. I felt challenged with all of his jokes. I can clean up nice, if I really wanted to!

"You think it's so funny? Fine, Two-Bit, if you give me money for a dress, I'll go." Everyone stopped laughing. Johnny and Pony stared at me, now, and I felt the heat slowly draining from my face, as a grin danced upon my lips. Two-Bit arose from his position and stared, too.

"..Alright, but only if you'll be my date!"

"You're out of your mind. No deal."

"Aww, alright..." He surrendered. "A dance?"

I paused real long. "I uh.. don't know how to dance." I stared at the plain wooden table.

"Ah, that's alright, I'll teach ya'!" When I looked up, he was winking at me.

"Fine, deal. After school, we'll go to some dress place." I didn't think that Two-Bit would be able to afford to buy me a dress. He'd probably just steal it. "You have the money, right?"

"Of course I have the money."

* * *

"You said you had the money!" He cupped his hand over my mouth; apparently I had said that a little too loud. We were in the fanciest dress wear place in town, and he had absolutely no money. I should have known..

"Sh, keep it quiet. Pick out a small dress, nothing too big and frilly, or else I won't be able to fit it." He whispered, and grinned at me, walking around the store in aisles close to the ones I was in. Forcing a fake voice, his grin remained as he spoke. "Oh, honey! Take a gander at this little number; it's quite exquisite." He held up some ridiculous fur-shouldered dress; quite hideous, more like it.

I snickered out loud, and fingered through the dresses. Most of them were all sparkly and flashy, and pink. The owner of the store was eyeing us oddly since we came in, but since we were taking so long, he stepped away from the counter and acted like he was checking the stocks to get closer and make sure we weren't getting away with a five-finger discount.

It was blue. The dress, I mean. I wasn't about to dye my hair blonde like Two-Bit had suggested, but it seemed fitting. It wasn't very flashy, but it was tight, long, and strapless. I motioned for Two-Bit to come over, and I pointed to the dress I wanted silently. He then unzipped his jacket, and picked out a big, frilly dress, and held it up in front of him, as if to show it to me. This hid his free hand, which was his opening his jacket, and his eyes were motioning for me to roll it up and shove it in there. So I did, while he blabbered on as a distraction.

"What about this dress, honey?! It's very.. _chic._" I laughed out loud, and he grinned. Maybe I should have said yes to that date, Two-Bit would keep me in stitches. I zipped up his jacket, most of the way, and he then put the dress back and almost doubled over.

"Ugh.. that caviar is really hitting me. Gotta run!" He paced out of the door, and I followed. The owner was yelling at us suddenly, so we knew we were caught. We made a run for it the second we heard his voice.

"Hey! HEY!! Come back here!"

Me and Two-Bit were sure that we had gotten away with it. We were running as fast as we could, so I didn't look back. I was confident. But, suddenly, Two-Bit sounded worried.

"Keep going! Hurry!" I dry gulped. We probably wouldn't get caught, right? The last thing I need is another mark on my record. I was running as hard and as fast as I could, now, but suddenly was jerked by a firm grip on my right arm in the opposite direction, which was tugged so hard I felt as if it were pulled out of socket.

"Over here!" It was Two-Bit, but I almost fell over when he yanked me so hard along with the momentum of me running so fast. We turned quick into an alley, and my flimsy sneakers got stuck in a muddy puddle. All that, along with the whole stumbling thing did not mix well, and I close to face-planted onto the ground, my side smashing an already broken bottle. I felt many sharp pains.

"Tobe! Are you okay?! We gotta get up, they're coming!" He, now much more gently, yanked me. I felt so embarrassed, but I couldn't get up. My ankle felt twisted, and there was a sharp pain in my side. I rolled over and got up on my knees, and coughed, noticing the mud not even made from water and dirt, but old gasoline and practical nuclear waste, and felt disgusting. With that aside, and the situation at hand, I looked up at him.

"I can't get up, I think my ankles busted. You go. Make a run for it!" I heard the footsteps of more than one person coming towards us now, and they were coming fast. I knew Two-Bit was hesitant, but he kneeled down next to me, and grabbed me up by my arm and slung it over his shoulder, making me stand. My ankle was limp, but I started off on a slow run with him, and I kept shaking my head.

"No, just go, you have the dress, I don't, I'll meet up with you later. Go!" He ignored me. But by then, it was too late. I heard them directly behind us, and I didn't bother in looking back.

Two-Bit was halfway tackled, but neither of them fell. The fuzz sure showed up quick, one must have been around when we started running. With Two-Bit being shoved and captured, though, and me not being able to stand very well, I suddenly lost my balance, and that sharp pain in my side got real bad before I felt heavy and slipped into an impenetrable darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

When I woke up, it was all hazy. I had one nurse talking, to what seemed to be a cop on the opposite side of my bed. He said something like taking me away once I got better, and I groaned. I tried to remember how I got there, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. I just remembered feeling a sharp pain in my side and worrying about..

"She was an accomplice to Keith Matthews, stealing a dress, so it seems. We're letting him out on easy bail, his mother will pick him up in the morning. Their school will be contacted about this. Turns out, they stole the dress for some date to their school formal." He gave a heartless chuckle. My vision was blurry, especially with all of those bright lights, but they were mostly open by the time the nurse replied.

"She rolled her ankle, and the pain will be gone in a few days. She had some glass in her left side, too, but the injuries were minor. They didn't require stitches. She seemed to have passed out from fatigue; she didn't look like she's had sleep in years." The nurse was exaggerating, but she seemed pretty right. I never sleep anymore. This stiff hospital pillow was beginning to feel comfortable, once I heard the word sleep.

"She does have quite a record, though, back where she's from. Can't seem to get ahold of her folks.. she won't get off too easily, but at least she won't be spending the night in a cell." For a second, my heart started beating hard, thinking of Two-Bit. But, I relaxed, after actually imagining it. He could make the hardest, toughest hood around grin if he tried. And if he couldn't, he could surely fend for himself. Nonetheless, I still hoped he was alright. I felt so awful for all of this.

"Well, she's awake.. finally. Thought we'd never wake you up." The nurse talked condescending. I gave her a creepy, sarcastic smile. She replied with a sigh. "We can't get ahold of your father." I winced.

"Good." My voice was hoarse; I was thirsty. "He won't do you any good, anyway."

"He's your legal guardian; he needs to know these things."

"He couldn't care less, I'll tell you that much. Booze is all he needs." I hated talking about him. I hated even thinking about him. The cop observed me for a minute. Wait. Was I naked? I felt naked.

"Your school will be contacted. You won't get charges pressed against you, but the owner of the store wants his money back for that dress, and we'll request for you to get some kind of detention or suspension from your school's administration." I stared at him nonchalantly. I didn't care, and I showed it. "I don't want this to happen again, October. If it does, I won't go half as easy on you; in fact, if you weren't in a hospital bed, you would be in a cell along with Mr. Matthews." I sighed out of boredom.

"Yes, sir. Won't do it again." My tone said it all. The officer's face said that he regretted letting me off so easily, and he turned on his heel and walked out. Looking to the nurse, I made myself look pitiful. "Could I please have some water? And my pants?"

I was naked. Practically. Stupid hospital gowns; I hate these things.

"Water, yes. We'll give you your things back once we get ahold of your guardian, and you'll be free to go. Or, at least, someone to come and pick you up and sign you out, over 18." The only person I knew over 18 that would do that is Two-Bit. Damnit.. I'm never going to get out of here.

"I'm completely fine. Just need some water, and I'll skip outta here."

"Rules are rules."

I growled in frustration. I hated hospitals.

* * *

You know how they say when you're in a hospital, you can never get any sleep? The sounds of screams of those in agony, both physical and emotional, or the groans of the near-dead always keeping you up. The nerve-wrecking rush of footsteps followed by commands to save peoples' lives by the split of a hair, often failing and resulting in more screams of agony.

I got the best sleep I've had in a year in that hospital.

* * *

When I woke up for the second time, I was greeted by a nurse.

"You're free to go. Your things are waiting for you, so get dressed and they'll sign you out." They? Who is they? I sat up and looked around, then pushed aside the curtain. Ponyboy! Wait, Ponyboy isn't 18. Johnny's there, too, but neither is he. Who could have..?

"Pony, Johnny, Soda, let her get dressed so we can get outta here." Superman returns. And he really did save the day! I'm sure he didn't do this on his own free will, and I suddenly felt real embarrassed. I was still in one of those crummy hospital gowns! I groaned.

"Ungh.. hey, guys. Wish you wouldn't have seen me in this dumb gown."

"Would it be better seeing you in a wedding gown that Two-Bit stole for ya? Hell, I would'a thought you guys would have ran away to get married or somethin'!" Soda laughed. He was just playing around, but it made me feel even worse.

"Sorry about that, guys.. it's my fault." I gripped the thin hospital sheets.

"Oh, nah, it's all right. Two-Bit said it was his idea in the first place, you had no clue. It's just funny, 'cuz he's never been caught stealin' before." Now I feel ten million times worse! I broke his good luck streak.

"Come on, we need to get out of here." Darry was impatient. It was Saturday, so I don't see why. At least, I think it's Saturday.. how long was I sleeping? The boys exited, and I hopped into my jeans quicker than I ever have before. I tossed off that hospital gown like it were a constricting ball and chain just released, and threw on my tight print tee. Stretching, I escaped from that hellhole, and looked up to Darry. He was so tall.

"Thanks a lot, Darry. I'd have been stuck in there for eternity, if it wasn't for you."

"Two-Bit gave us a call from the station saying that some cop said you were stuck in the hospital until someone came and signed you out." Darry didn't mention the fact that my father had ignored the fact that I was in the hospital and needed a guardian there for me. That he was an ignorant, drunkard fuckbag that didn't give a shit whether or not I was at the bottom of the ocean. I'm kind of glad he didn't mention it, though, but I'm sure that all of them know by now.

"Did his mom bail him out yet?"

"Yeah, he should be out by now." Soda jumped in. It was still Saturday, good.

Darry offered to give me a ride back to my place, but I didn't want to go back there. Pony and Johnny didn't talk much, maybe they were mad at me. They never really talk, anyway, though, but I wished they did. Soda almost insisted that they give me a ride, since it was a long walk, but I needed to get back on my feet, even with this rolled ankle. It did start to hurt real bad after a couple of minutes of walking, so I had to stop and sit down on a bench or on the curb for a little bit, but I managed.

Lifting up my shirt on my left side, there was some bandaging, and I quickly ripped it off. I'm allergic to all of that crap. Band-aids, medical tape, latex, bacitracin, rubbing alcohol.. if any of that shit gets in my bloodstream, I have bad allergic reactions. I could even die, if I get a lot in there. Anything that can heal me, can also kill me. Ironic, huh? Some of the cuts were kind of deep, and I knew I'd be carrying those scars for the rest of my life. Most of them, anyway. Some of them were harmless scratches, though. My shirt was torn slightly where the glass had ripped through, but there was no blood -- it must have been cleaned, or something. I still had my locket around my neck, though, and it never left, even in the hospital.

I saw some kids across the street, Greasers, no doubt, smoking and causing tiny havoc. Kicking cans into cars, writing dirty words on the bus stop wall: the usual.

"MAN.. I wish I had a weed!" I said pretty loud. But, they didn't, and if they did, they ignored me. I sighed, there's no harm in asking; I haven't had a cigarette in forever, so it seems. So I walked across the street, and approached the one inhaling and exhaling smoke like a fiend. He had a scar from his temple, down his jaw, and hard, mean eyes.

"What do you want?" His voice was even colder than Dally's. Not to mention older.

"A smoke. Got any spares?" I tried to look cute. Some of the guys behind him were snickering, and jabbing their thumbs towards me. But I couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Get lost." He shouldered past me, and if he wouldn't have brushed against my bad side, with both my rolled ankle and bruised ribs were, I wouldn't have lightly whimpered. I caught myself halfway in the act, though.

"Aw, come on, Tim. She's kinda cute, for a rat." I glared towards them, and shoved my thumbs in my pockets. They were all cackling and snorting. Self-consciously, I thought, do I really look like a rat? Out of anger, I figured it wasn't a good idea, since I can't run too well on a rolled ankle, but..

"FAGS!" And I started off in a sprint. I heard them debating behind me, and then heard a few footsteps. And then more, and more, until I think the entire gang was after me. I turned off into an alley, suddenly realizing that it was a dead end. I almost leaped behind a pile of trash cans, shaking and panting, but I quieted myself.

"Where'd she go?" I heard, and some more muffling noises.

My ankle was hurting mighty bad, so I let it relax a little and it resulted in the trash bag in front of me tipping over, causing a lot of cans and other disgusting waste to spill out.

"Shit." I cursed at myself, and scooted more behind the trash cans. "Fuck."

I heard footsteps coming, and I didn't want to look like I was afraid, so I quickly stood up, and crossed my arms, raking my jaw. There was no escape way, there were too many of them.

"You really are a rat.." That cold voice echoed through my mind. Tim surfaced through his gang, and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscles and other scars. "Cornered behind trash, in a dark alley."


	8. Chapter 8

Before I knew it, I was pinned against the brick wall in a dark alley. Who knew that alleys were so dark during broad fucking daylight? On the east side, I don't think there was such a thing as a lighted one. His crooked nose got close to my neck, and I squirmed, attempting to punch him, but it only resulted in him slamming my fists back against the rough surface of the wall behind me. I heard cackles and laughs, but no objections from his gang behind him. I silently wondered if he did this often.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I screamed. I jumped, and screamed some more. He pulled back, grinning at me. His grin was cheap, but his eyes surprisingly weren't. They just tried to make themselves look cheap. I bet if it was just me and Tim alone in this alley..

"I said get OFF, you piece of shit." I can talk real dirty if I wanted to. Something I picked up from my father's side of the family; one of the things I'm actually grateful for from him. No one would take my lanky form seriously if I had no words to back myself up, either.

"Big words for such a little girl like you. Shit, though, I'd feel pretty bad after fucking an orphan child on the streets." His gang was rolling. His eyes were dangerous. I felt my once full lips shrivel up as my teeth gritted in anger.

Once I wriggled my knee away from his pressing leg, I brought it up as quickly and as fast as I could, right where the sun don't shine. Shit, nothing shined on that no good hood. When he backed up a step and held his nuts in pain, I figured it was a vulnerable enough point to clock him straight in the jaw. His scarred jaw was actually harder than my fist, no surprise, but I know it hurt him because he retaliated in slamming me back up against the wall as hard as he could. I banged the back of my head, and squeaked as the air escaped my lungs.

"You little bitch!" His gang wasn't laughing anymore. They just saw their leader, their idol, get clocked by a girl. A homeless-looking one, of all. Wonder if it was more insulting to be punched by a ratty looking girl, or a Socy one? Who knows. He kept trying to get ahold of me, but I was struggling as fast as I could. His grip finally rested on my shoulders, squeezing tight enough to nearly pop my arms off.

I screamed again, halfway out of pain and halfway out of calling for help, as I realized that he wasn't aiming to just beat the tar out of me. It never really crossed my mind twice, but would this guy really want to rape me in broad daylight? Or would no one tell if they saw it? I kept screaming until he smacked me hard across the face, some of the gang members actually expressing their protests through their faces. Some of them wanted to watch me get fucked unwillingly, and others wanted to tell him to stop.

I continued to scream since no one of the gang stood up against their 'almighty' leader. He started undoing my pants button, and I kicked at his shins since he was too close to kick anywhere else.

"Shut her up!" He didn't want to put his hand over my mouth, because he knew I would bite the living shit out of him. He's probably done this before. Or just had a little common sense. "Hurry the fuck up before someone calls the cops!"

One of the gang members, short and stocky with curly hair came up and looked disgusted. I'm not too sure with what he was disgusted at; the fact that his leader(which I later found out was his brother) about to rape some girl, or the fact that I didn't have big enough tits or blonde hair for himself to get a hard-on. Nonetheless, Curly Shepard was stupid enough to put his hand over my mouth, almost immediately resulting in me clamping down on his rough and already scarred hands. I tasted iron, and _my _teeth hurt after biting him so hard.

"Shit! That little bitch bit me!" He didn't need to say it, there was blood all over his hands and some I had noticed had dripped onto my off-white tight tee. Also looking down, I realized that my pants were unbuttoned revealing my striped panties. Fuck! I need to get the fuck out of here!!

"She's too loud, Tim. The fuzz is prolly already on their way, let's split!" One of the anonymous gang members spoke up, and Tim hesitated.

"Yeah, Tim, Curly, let's go. I ain't aimin' to goin' back to the cooler for this shit." A harsher member spoke up. Tim's movements slowed down, but his hands were still on a deathgrip against my wire-thin shoulders which were nearly crunching against the brick wall.

"Fuck that! This bitch is getting it!" He obviously didn't care about being sent to jail, as long as he got his revenge. I would almost admire Tim Shepard's pride, if he wasn't about to rip me inside out.

"Who's getting what?" A familiar voice spoke, as a hazy figure surfaced from the crowd. Was it? No way, I was dreaming..

"Dallas, what the fuck are you doing here?" Tim was distracted. I only stayed silent as I watched Dally's eyes flare up at the sight of Tim pinning me up against the wall, me struggling and in pain, with my pants unbuttoned and unzipped. Shit, Dally saw my underwear. I felt my face get hot. Not to mention, there was blood all in my mouth, trickling down my lips and onto my shirt. It was Curly's blood, but for all Dally knew it was my own.

"What the fuck are YOU doing here?" Dallas charged him, shoving him off from me. It was as if I was released from gravity shoving me down, crushing me, because I stumbled onto the ground and rubbed my shoulders. I looked up, and Dally had Tim by the shirt collar.

"This bitch decided to start some shit. She fucking punched me in the jaw, and kneed me in the nuts." Tim tried to act like he was innocent in this. But we all knew he wasn't. Tim wasn't necessarily afraid of Dallas, but he didn't want to get rid of the chance of torturing me after humiliating him in front of his own gang.

"You probably deserved it, fuckbag." And just to prove a point, Dallas Winston clocked Tim in the jaw, right where I had only moments before. I could bet a pack of cigarettes that he shattered it, because Tim fell in shock, his face contracted in pain and humiliation at the same time. He would have probably fought Dally back, if Dally wouldn't have punched him so hard. He turned back to me, and I looked down. It felt good, having someone stick up for me like that.. real good.

I felt a thumb on my chin, lifting it up. He was eyeing the blood, mainly. My face was red, but for all Dallas knew it was from exhaustion and humiliation for being almost raped in public.

"He do that to you?" He asked coolly, observing the blood on my lips and teeth and tilting my head with his hand to look for any other wounds. My right cheek was stinging, it was probably more red than the rest of my face. I think Dallas noticed, because he started cursing between gritted teeth.

He helped me up, and didn't have to glare long at the rest of the crowd before they separated like an ocean at the words of Moses. But, unlike Moses, Dallas Winston didn't need any words at all. Just a look of his could turn an entire ocean to ice, but in this case got them to get the fuck out of our way. My ankle hurt real bad, but I didn't show it in front of the rest of the crowd until we got out of there.

I think Dally punched and shoved a few kids in the crowd for just watching and not helping me out, and I bet he would have taken them all on if Tim had actually gotten farther Dallas, despite never showing any cares for me at all, saved me. He probably didn't care about me anyway, but he knew it would tear up Johnny and Two-Bit if something real bad happened. That's probably why he did it.

Without noticing, I was completely silent. I had buttoned my pants up back when Dallas had cussed at and punched Tim, but I still felt naked. I must have looked pretty shaken up. I might have been, my stomach surely was.

"You hungry?" His voice made me jump. We were walking real slow 'cuz of my ankle, but I hadn't noticed. I continued to look down.

I hesitated to answer, but maybe more time with Dallas would be nice. "Yeah." I couldn't remember the last time I had ate, anyway. Despite that sick feeling I had in my stomach, it was probably best to eat.

"How come you came up here anyway?" My voice was quiet. In the movies, people always get there in time. I half-wondered what would have happened if Dallas had came mid-way... but I didn't want to think about it. Both me and Dallas, and most importantly, Tim Shepard would be FUCKED(no pun intended) if that would have happened.

"Well, I came up to tell Tim that I was returning his car today." He grabbed a cigarette and put it in his mouth, offering me one, but I refused. I don't like smoking before I eat, or else I can't eat. Either I eat, or I smoke. Not ever both. I'm weird like that. He took a long drag, and I regretted turning down a sweet cigarette.. "But, now that motherfucker ain't getting shit back. I'll just borrow it again."

I knew what he meant by borrow. And I knew that he knew that I knew what he meant by borrow. So he grinned coolly; I can see why Johnny idolizes him.


	9. Chapter 9

If you guys don't keep reviewing, I won't keep updating.

I'm usually fast at updating, 8 chapters in 4 days -- I need more reviews. Boost my ego.

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The dangerous blonde shouldered his way into the diner, triggering the diner bell to ring to notify that someone has entered. A smile planted onto a young waitress' face bloomed on cue for a greeting, and she took me and Dallas over to a booth near a window. That smile withered when Dallas murmured some dirty words to her on her way out; luckily, she wasn't the one bringing our food. My first meal in days, and I don't want a huge loogie in it.

"Shit, kid, gotta clean yourself up. We're in a public place, you know." Dallas spit on a napkin and advanced towards my chin. I held up my hand to catch his before he started bibbing me with that napkin, and crumpled it after taking it from his loose grasp. I tossed it over my shoulder, suddenly hoping that the spit-filled wad didn't land on someone's burger.

"I can do it." I took ahold of the shiny, almost mirror-like napkin holder and grabbed a napkin, observing the fuzzy image of myself. Licking the dry napkin, I wiped away the dried blood on my lip and chin, and observed my chest. Some blood on there, too, but it would stain. I licked my lips afterwards, and returned the napkin holder to it's original place.

"What do you care, anyway? Not like we're at a wedding." I spoke, but his eyes were idle, and somewhere else. They were staring at one area in particular, so I glanced over to where he was. Two cops, in the flesh, sitting at the counter.

"If they see you all bloodied up like that with me, they'll think I did it and haul me downtown. I ain't about to get locked up for Tim's dumbass. That motherfucker.." And he continued in a long string of cusswords, including some even I haven't heard of.

"Thanks. For whipping Tim, I mean." I said that when he was finished. Didn't want to interrupt his speech of pure, dedicated hatred.

"I wouldn't have given two shits if it was some broad I didn't know. Maybe if she was cute, but, you're pretty tight with Johnny and Two-Bit, and I ain' in the mood to deal with either of their blubberin'." I figured it was because of that.

"Shit, Dally, I didn't know you were a gentleman. Saving women like that." I teased. His icy glaze shot to me, and if I weren't trying to look so cool I could have choked.

"If you want, I could just tie you up in a neat little package and haul your ass off back to Tim." I stayed silent. I was staring at him, straight-on. Red against blue. Well, my eyes aren't really red, but they're almost red. Like a fading cigarette.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He grinned in triumph.

We waited in silence for our orders to come, which seemed to take an eternity. His eyes were idle again, always thinking about something. I couldn't have even began to guess what was on his mind, good or bad. Although, I did secretly wonder if he thought good thoughts every once and a while, or if all that dwelled beyond those greasy blonde locks was darkness. I caught myself staring from time to time, but I wasn't sure why.

Dallas wasn't drop-dead gorgeous like most of his friends. Ponyboy, Sodapop and Darry anyway. Johnny is just real cute, the kind you wanna squeeze. And Two-Bit has that comfortable, goofy-handsome look. But Dallas just looks mean. Cruel, even. There was always a glaze over his pale face, and when he got mad parts of his face turned red. Even his lips, one of the softest places on the body were hard. You could tell just by looking at them. They weren't too thin, and they were the kind of hard lips that were rosy but never went dry. They may have felt dry, but they never shriveled up or flaked. I wondered if his kisses were as hard and rough as his lips let on. Wait.. what the fuck? Me kissing Dallas Winston? That would never happen.

"You wanna make out yet or what?" Shit! Fucking mind-reader!

"What?"

"You were staring at my mouth like a fiend, and there's a place out back.." Cruel humor laced his cruel voice and that cruel look on his face gave it all away.

"Shut up, Dally. You're full of yourself." He shrugged. I felt my heart punch at the inside of my chest, trying to escape. Damn, that was close. But I nearly floated at the thought that Dallas Winston considered me a girl, before anyone else in the gang. Except Two-Bit.

Thankfully though, before he could say anything else about it, our food was placed in front of us. I forgot to tell you, even though I never eat, when I do, I can eat like a horse. I mauled that burger like nobody's business. I even think I beat Dally at it. To get back at him for earlier, though, I widened my eyes through mid-chew and pointed towards where the cops were previously. Dally straightened his posture from leaning over from that once shoveling position from where he ate to look, and when he did, I stole a fry and stuffed it in my mouth. It halfway hung out, and he halfway caught me in the act, so he grabbed a handful of fries from my own plate and tossed them at me. I ducked, some of them missing and some of them hitting my head. The rest flew by behind me, and Dally started snickering uncontrollably. I heard the person behind me stand, and I immediately thought,

_Oh shit. He must have thrown it at a cop._

"Excuse me." I sighed in relief, just some geek with ridiculous suspenders. He had on plaid pants, like the kind I wear often, except I make them look good.

"Shit, Tobe, it's your twin." Dallas noticed his pants, too, laughing and rolling at his own joke, but ignoring the man.

"Excuse me! First you throw a dirty napkin at me, now you throw fries? Your acts are very juvenile, and if you have a problem.." His nasal voice was so annoying. Luckily, Dallas cut him off by suddenly standing, towering over him, his icy orbs melting holes through the man's skull.

"If I have a problem..?" Dallas made him continue, eyebrows raised behind blonde tresses. The geek trembled in his polished business shoes.

"...Then.. you can take it up with the manager." A few short, nervous chuckles and four-eyes was out of there in a split second, already asking to get a booth 'away from the window'. Dally flopped back into the booth, chuckling harshly. I was laughing, too. Stuffing a few more fries into his mouth, and downing it with coke, he stood.

"Boring as shit around here." He threw two bucks and some change on the table. I don't even know if he had the right amount down, but if he didn't, he probably wouldn't get any shit. I don't think he left a tip, though. I stood, too, after throwing a cube of ice into my mouth from my coke, and we left.

"You need to go home before dark or anything?" He looked to me, while shoving his hands in his leather jacket's pockets. The sun was beginning to set, forming an abstract array of colors in the sky. I shook my head. He half-heartedly grinned. "Didn't think so."


	10. Chapter 10

I followed him, although I wasn't quite sure where we were going. We ended up walking about twenty minutes until we reached the drive-in theatre. On Saturdays, there was always a fight going on around here. And everyone was around to watch.

We hopped the fence, and I regretted it immediately after. My ankle will never get better with my lifestyle. I was walking behind Dally as we waltzed right in front of everyone's view of the movie screen, weaving in and out of cars, behind cussed at and I even had a glass bottle thrown at me. I flipped the drunkard a bird, before returning in pursuit of Dally. Turns out, the whole gang was there. It was dark already, and pretty chilly. I wish I had a jacket.

Two-Bit was the first one to notice me, and gave Dally a weird look before standing up. "Hey, Tobe!" He got shushed by a few people behind and next to him, and then grabbed me gently by the wrist and pulled me into the seat next to him. I hadn't seen him since he got tackled by that fat cop. I wanted to ask him everything. What happened in the cell, if his mom was hacked off at him for getting arrested, if he was mad at me for breaking his record of never getting caught when stealing something. I felt guilty, suddenly. "What's up with the good times?" I loved how casual he was.

"Hey, sorry about yesterday.." Damn. That was really yesterday? Shit, I bet Two-Bit would flip if he knew what happened just this afternoon. Dally was sitting a few seats down from me, his legs kicked up on the guy's seat in front of him, who was getting irritated.

Two-Bit laughed. "What're you sorry for?" His voice was a little low. "I was the reason you were stuck in the hospital; shit, didn't mean to yank on you so hard. I damn near thought I broke you when you fell on that glass, I felt mighty awful. I'M the one that should be sorry." I grinned a little.

"I ruined your good luck streak, though. Of never getting caught, I mean. I guess we're even."

"You have to get stitches?" I looked over at Dally, who was cussing at the guy who had the nerve to move his feet away from the back of his head. He was being shushed by the people behind him.

"...Nah.." My attention was now focused on Dallas. Two-Bit noticed, and started watching, too. In a matter of seconds, more people were focused on the angered teen and the unlucky victim than they were on the cheap beach movie.

After getting done telling off the first guy, the persistent 'shushers' were next. Dally advanced towards them quickly, grabbing the guy's large coke and spilling it on top of his head, dropping the now empty cup into his lap. The guy was older, probably in his twenties, and apparently he was on a date, because his girl gasped and you could _see_ the humility grow inside of him. He then quickly stood, looking ready to pummel Dally. Of course, he didn't stand a chance, even though he was taller. The man looked reluctant, knowing that at that very second that he stood he'd have to do something or else be humiliated even more. So, he pulled back slowly, and attempted to deck Dally straight in the nose.

In a flash, Dally was down, and back up again after ducking the bigger man's swing, and threw a swing of his own. Then another, and another, before the man stumbled back onto the steps, holding his nose. Two-Bit cussed in admiration of Dallas, and then stood when the crummy security of the place came far too late. Dally's victim was already on the ground, bleeding from probably all of the holes in his face, and they shoved him.

"Get lost, hood!" I stood up then, too. Dallas looked dangerous. Almost as dangerous as when his eyes flared up when he saw me pinned up against the wall this afternoon. But, this time, it was a playful dangerous. He was grinning menacingly, and the security stammered and stumbled a bit over his own words.

"C-C'mon now! No fights allowed, you know the rules!" He gave Dallas a shooing hand instead of shoving him again. Dally flipped the collar of his leather jacket up, and walked down the steps, slowly exiting the place with a harsh laugh. I started to follow him, before the security noticed me, too.

"You didn't pay for your entrance, either! Get outta here!" It was my invitation to follow Dally, and so I ran out of there, leaving Two-Bit behind. I wanted to talk to him more about what happened, but I knew I'd have all the time in the world. I never got to talk to Dally, so I caught up with him and hopped the fence.

"Is getting into fights on your daily schedule, or did I catch you on a bad day?" I asked, still catching up to him, as I soon walked behind him. It was dark, and his dangerous grin was fading.

"Who knows." He was walking fast, which was hard on my ankle to keep up, but I did anyway. I bit my lip, trying to think of something to say. I think he enjoyed torturing just about everyone; silence is what tortures me. At least, uncomfortable silences like this.

"I uh.. got kicked out, too. Didn't just follow you for the hell of it."

A cold chuckle released, and a faint puff of hot air frosted over in front of his lips. Was that his natural icy aura, or was it really that fucking cold outside?

"I'm sure." God, he was so insulting. If I ever got hacked off at him enough, I think I'd test what would happen if I hit him myself. I'd probably get whipped until I couldn't remember my name, but maybe the fact that I have tits may keep Dallas Winston from beating the tar out of me.

He slowed down, eventually. Only to stop for a quick cigarette, though. I didn't know where we were -- again -- but it looked pretty gloomy. The streets were empty, I bet the whole East Side was sitting back at that drive-in theatre. I shivered, and held my arms. My shoulders ached from earlier, and if it wouldn't require me revealing more skin, I would have checked.

"Cold?" I almost laughed out loud at Dallas Winston's question, asking if I was cold.

"No." I lied halfway out of sarcasm, halfway out of trying to look cool. He observed me thoughtfully, cigarette in lips, before taking off his leather jacket and holding it out in front of him.

"You slow or something? I said I wasn't cold." I crossed my arms. He shrugged, and dropped the coat as if it meant nothing to him. I've never seen him without it, actually. Removing the cigarette, only to put it back between his lips, he began walking, leaving his jacket behind.

"Are you just gonna leave it?" I took a few steps towards him. He was wearing a semi-tight white t-shirt. It wasn't faggishly tight, just tight enough to show off his lean build. He didn't respond, just kept walking.

I sighed in frustration, reluctantly picking it up and throwing it over my shoulders. It was so warm, I could have melted. I walked quick to catch up with him again, and he grinned when he saw me wearing his jacket. It smelled like old leather, cigarettes, and grease. I like the smell of all of those things. Not so much old leather, I mean it's alright, but the smell of cigarettes for me is a given. I'm a heavy smoker, and seeing him smoke in front of me without me taking a drag was killing me anyway. I liked the smell of grease because it almost smells like a faint, old cologne, but more smooth. Dally never really put that much grease in his hair; he didn't need to. Everyone knew he was a greaser just by looking at him. He must have stolen it from some real greasy hood, and the scent stayed. I wondered what Dally's real scent was like..

"How come you and Tim had it out today, anyway?" I was surprised that he actually gave it a second thought. It must have irked him that I hauled off and clocked Tim in the jaw, not to mention kneed his family jewels. Or, maybe he was just surprised that Tim would actually do something that low. I wouldn't find out.

I laughed out loud, remembering why. "I asked for a cigarette, and he was giving me mouth. Then his gang said I was a rat, so I called 'em a bunch of faggots and bolted. They caught me in an ally, though, and it just went from there." He was looking at me when I looked up at him, and he almost looked impressed. I beamed.

"So wait, you just punched him in the jaw when he found you in the ally?" He almost laughed.

"Nah, he had me pinned, so I kneed him in the nuts and tried to finish it off."

"All over a cigarette, huh?" He took a long drag, then took the cigarette from his lips with three fingers, and passed it over to me. I took it, and took a long drag, too. It's been almost two whole days since I've had a cigarette. I shuddered with pleasure. I inhaled the smoke like a fiend and took three more hits, one after another.

"Hey, I didn't say you could have it. Jesus Christ." I mourned when I had to part from the cig, and gave it back to Dally, but it was nearly smoked down to the filter by then. He took the last drag, and smothered it with his heel. The leather jacket weighed down on my bruised shoulders, and I noticed his breath catching fog. I felt guilty, again. I used to never feel guilty, now I do all the time around these assholes.

"Ain't you cold?" I wouldn't want to give up the warmth so easily, but it was his jacket, and I wasn't real used to generosity anyway. Hell, no one would, coming from this hood.

"No." I couldn't tell if he was mocking me from earlier or not, because he didn't let on.

I couldn't think of anything else to say. Man, there's a lot of things I can't do. I'm so useless.

"Are you and Tim friends?" By my random questions, I bet he could tell that I was nervous and didn't really know what to talk about. The farther we walked, the closer we got to home, but, the darker it got. He gave that question some thought.

"I guess you could say that. After what he pulled today, though, I don't think I'll be on such friendly terms with that motherfucker for a while."

"I heard stories about him. I didn't know it was the Tim I heard shit about, though, 'til after." I realized that it didn't make me sound so tough anymore. Sure, I punched Tim Shepard in the face, but I didn't know it was Tim Shepard so it didn't make me seem so tough.

"You've heard stories about me too, then." He said coolly.

"Yeah.." Dally was proud of his reputation. I knew it. But I didn't need to go on and on about shit he's heard a thousand times over.

We didn't really talk much after that. He said he was going to some guy named Buck's place to crash, and didn't offer me to come along. So I didn't ask. I did need a place to crash, but I didn't say it. It's like chewing glass when you try to tell Dallas Winston things.


	11. Chapter 11

_"Ma, where do people go when they die?" A girl with cola pigtails and dark cherry eyes perked, tugging at her mother's apron. But this girl wasn't me. It was a ghost from a thousand years ago._

_"They turn into angels and go up to heaven, honey." The woman, no older than thirty, coughed and hacked, ripping the apron out of the little girl's hands to have something to heave in. Her voice was raspy when she spoke. "Go play in your room."_

_"Where is heaven, ma?" The girl looked down at her scraped knees. She played rough, even as a child._

_"It's right behind the sunset. Only angels can reach it, though, because even though it seems so close, heaven's always real far away." The mother looked pale and washed out, as she patted on the little girl's back, motioning towards her room._

_"Are you going to go to heaven soon?" A pout. The woman looked down at her daughter, with a horrifying look. Wide eyes, and furrowed brows, that the child nearly trembled in her sneakers. Her look softened, suddenly, and she kneeled down, tugging gently at a pigtail and then stroking her daughter's scalp._

_"Honey, I'll always be with you. Just look at the sun setting, and even if I'm not there with you, I'll always be hiding behind it. I'll be your guardian angel and I'll always be there for you.. just wait until the sun sets." A warm, pitiful smile crept along the woman's face. Even though she was only twenty-nine, she was much older. She was a thousand years older than what she really was; her golden eyes were dim and fading._

_There was a stir and suddenly the little girl ended up on the ground, with a deep pain in her chest. She heard a bunch of rough, scary noises, as it grew closer and closer.._

"Fuck." I woke up with nails in my lungs. Not literally, but it sure felt like it. The sun was rising, almost resembling a sunset, but backwards. This was the first time I've slept in my own bed in a month. I fumbled around for a cigarette, and sucked on it even before it was lit. Dragging long, I exhaled and shut the blinds as roughly and dramatically as possible.

"I hate sunsets."

Life outside of home had been so good lately. Well, no, I didn't really have a home anymore. The only time I'm home is when I take a shower, change clothes, and grab some cigarettes. A house with a father like mine was never a home in the first place.

Anyway, thinking about a lot of stuff since I always had the time, I had managed to skip first, second, and third block without realizing it. I kind of liked school, when I had classes with friends. Two-Bit and I could have been mistaken for lovers, we had been around eachother so much. We were a lot alike, except he was funnier but we thought the same thoughts. I could be real funny if I wanted, I just never really spoke of the humor that went on in my head.

But then again, I don't like pleasing too many people, so maybe I'm more like Dallas. His hatred for the world is unrivaled, but I do hate a lot of people, and I'm always looking for some kind of action. I never really go through with a lot of what I want to, so I guess that's what separates me from him. Aside from his piercing blue eyes. I never really liked blue eyes, they seemed too cliche, but on Dallas it's so alluring.

The way that I think about so much about so little makes me a lot like Pony, though. I've never sat down and had a one-on-one conversation with the kid, but I could tell that he thinks about a lot of stuff. Not to mention I've heard plenty from Johnny about how deep and dreamy he is, but Pony is too shy to talk to me like that. I sometimes wish I could get to know him personally, though. It's nice to have someone who you can relate to.

I'm nothing like Darry or Sodapop, though. Sodapop is too happy and innocent for anything. Darry is too strict and his mind filled with rules and regulations. Nearly opposites. Johnny and I are kind of alike; we talk a lot now, too. I can relate to him in a few ways, I guess. But nothing real significant.

I feel real sorry, whenever I think deeply about all of them. Every single one of them has some kind of pitiful story, the kind that makes you feel bad just by hearing about them. And each one has their own way of dealing with it; behind humor to help heal others while healing themselves, or turning their pain into hatred towards everyone, or thinking about everything and keeping their noses in books and movie theatres, or smoking and taking all of the abuse, or creating more rules and being strict towards themselves and everyone else to keep from anything bad happening, or smiling and bearing all of the pain and still being optimistic after all of what's happened..

What do I do? When I'm in pain, do I grin and bear it? Or do I cry, or do I do everything to try not to cry? Or do I end up hating everyone and everything, or smoking and drinking away my problems?

To be honest, I can't remember the last time I've been hurt. The past is all behind me and all, and sure, some shit hurts, but I haven't had any fresh heartbreaks in a while. Shit, the Curtis' brothers parents just died a half a year ago. My mom died when I was younger, so it was easier to deal with. I was a little kid, I didn't know my heart was broken then.

Exhale. This is my third cigarette this hour; I smoke a lot when I think. So I'm smoking all the time. It's half past eleven, so the gang should show up sometime soon for lunch break. We normally hop the fence and go over to Pop's, so I've been hanging across the street to the Pop Shop in an old lot.

I wonder. What if I ever tried to sit down and talk to every single one of them individually about their pain? Would Two-Bit continue to be funny? Would Dallas glare at me and say I'm just a bullshit-talkin' pussy, and would Ponyboy just look at me weird and claim that everything is okay?

Inhale. The smooth burning in my lungs gives me some kind of unthinkable high. No one ever really talks about it, but cigs get you higher than anything. At least, in my opinion, I think cigarettes are more appealing than drinking. Being drunk is fun and all, 'cause you never think about anything, but I like cigarettes because they let you think about everything. I like thinking. It keeps me sane.

They never showed up. Guess they decided to trust the school meat today, but I didn't feel like finding out for myself. I decided to skip school all day, but hanging around there was useless. Getting up, I brushed my ass off and I looked up when I heard the roaring of an engine.

"Wanna' ride?" Dallas had shades on that blocked his eyes. He was driving a real nice car, but it wasn't his. Those sunglasses probably weren't, either.

"Who'd you steal that from?" I crossed my arms; he didn't need to try to look cool. But, that car was real tuff, and the top was off. It was a pretty nice day, too.

"Some old lady down the road." He stated casually. Last time I checked, old ladies don't come after you with crowbars wanting their car back, so I shrugged and hopped in.

"Liar." But also, the last time I checked, old ladies don't drive lipstick red convertibles. He grinned, and slammed on the gas, as we peeled out of the lot.

We didn't say anything to eachother for a while, but the ride wasn't silent. With the engine roaring, the tires screaming, and the radio blasting, even if I tried to say anything, it wouldn't matter. Neither of us would hear me. I held my hand out, feeling the strong winds pull my arm back. If I let my arm go limp, it'd probably still be in the same position.

"Where are we going?" He had turned the music off when a shitty Hank Williams song came on. I'm halfway surprised that the cops haven't yet pulled us over for speeding. He acted like he didn't hear me. I don't think he knew where we were going, either. I think he just wanted someone to ride with, but why me? It's not like I'm a presentable woman. I don't have long, golden locks, or even cute red curls. Just a dark brown mop of crap and some ripped up jeans. I was one of the guys, basically, with a set of small tits and a pretty face.

We were getting near the south side of town, and I had realized this because it was getting slummier. Even slummier than our own neighborhood. I was getting a little uptight because, well, frankly, the last thing I want is to run into the Shepard gang again. And everyone knows that they just breed over here, those fucking hoods.

To my relief, though, we kept driving past the bad part of town, and shit, we left the town from what I know. Unless Tulsa has a countryside to it that I didn't know about, we were nearly on dirt roads, unmapped.

"Dallas, where the fuck are we?" I knew I could cuss around him and he wouldn't care. He cusses more, dirtier, and better than I do.

"Rodeo. You looked bored, so I figured you might wanna see a show." He was still speeding, and if there were any speed limit signs around here they'd probably be saying 20 less than what Dallas was going.

"Yeah, I look bored so you take me out to see some old rednecks get thrown off of horses." I was never interested in ten-gallon hats and horse shit.

"Last I checked, I wasn't an old redneck." He looked over to me, still grinning. He was excited. Then it hit me, why he wore rodeo boots in the middle of the fucking city. Johnny had told me once or twice about how Dally rides in rodeos to make a couple extra bucks, but I never would have thought I would have seen it.

"Could'a fooled me." I snickered. I didn't look over at him, but he was probably scowling, because he pressed even harder on the gas as we nearly flew down the road. If he wasn't so excited to go break his neck in the rodeo ring, I bet he would have cussed me out and thrown me in the middle of nowhere.

I always test him like that, just to see if he'll actually turn around and belt me one of these days. He does it to everyone else. I don't know why I'm an exception.


	12. Chapter 12

The farther we drove, the darker it got. I don't think it was because the night was already catching up, but a thunderstorm rolled in out of nowhere and formed a shield from the sunlight. Dallas didn't seem to notice.

I observed the leathery, greyish purple formations resembling an old, twisted tree trunk since there was nothing else to look at. We were in the middle of nowhere, with just a road ahead of us and dirt on either side for miles. It looked pretty cool, though, as the lightening struck and the booming thunder wrought terror upon the town miles away. It almost looked like a lightening bug caught in a net from here, and the thunder was the curses from the lightening bug left unheard.

"It's gonna rain, you know." It was only a matter of time until it started pouring over here like it was a couple miles west, and the cool, fresh air right before a storm rushed over me and glistened my arms and the back of my neck. I should have brought Dally's coat, but it was a pretty nice day back in Tulsa.

"Easier win for me." I almost thought he wouldn't reply.

"What if they cancel it?" He looked amused at my question.

"You honestly think they're gonna cancel a rodeo over some fucking sprinkles?" He looked at me when he spoke, then looked back to the road. "Shit, it's better when it rains anyway. Dumbfucks who don't know how to ride slip off in seconds, and the lightening makes the horses go buckwild. It's the best time to ride, when it's rainin'." He really is fucking crazy.

"When you break your neck, don't come cryin' to me."

"When I win all the bets, don't come askin' me for liquor money." I blinked. Liquor money? Shit, I forgot. I bet everyone up there is filling themselves up with booze.

We got there soon after, and he hardly parked the car before he hopped out, leaving the top off. We were in the back of the dirt plot, AKA the parking lot, since there were plenty of pick-up trucks and other assorted beat up pieces of shit ahead of us. Dallas was welcomed by some familiar faces, but I stood by the car.

By the way that Dallas was acting, fun, but still dangerous, he seemed a little nicer than he normally was. Kind of happy, actually. For a guy who grew up in New York, he sure did like those cowfuckers. But, then again, no matter how mean you are, you can't keep your job if you're an asshole to everyone. That's probably how it was around here, and from what I knew of, this was Dally's only way of getting money.

"Didn't think I'd see you again after two months ago, Dal!"

"Where the fuck you been?"

"This is gonna be the cowboy that wins it all!"

I heard all of the cheering and whooping from the small group, while other small groups were separated and they were probably doing the same to their rodeo heroes. Dallas leaned up against the hood of the nice car he had stolen, just a few feet away from me. I glanced nonchalantly at the group familiar with him.

"Who's Ace?" Ace? What the fuck?

"That's Tobe. She's with me." Oh, yeah, I was wearing my ace of spades shirt. It was off-white, and skin-tight, printed with a replica of an ace of spades design on the front, and the same on the back.

"She your lucky card?" One of the older ones cackled, and a few others laughed along with him.

"Yeah, she better be." I felt an arm sling around my bruised shoulder, rough and hard. I stiffened up and my posture straightened, as I looked up at Dallas, who was grinning down at me. I looked down a minute and blushed harder than I think I ever have before. Was this just an act for the old fucks, or did Dallas Winston really want to put his arm around my shoulder? We started walking, and I almost stumbled but I caught myself beforehand. I hoped and prayed to Buddha, Zeus, Lillith and Elvis that he didn't notice how nervous and anxious I was.

It was a relief to see that everyone there wasn't old, or all rednecks. In fact, a lot of them were younger, a little older than me and Dallas but younger than a third of the people that cramped up the small shack-like area. If you go to the left, there's a huge ring with some run-down stadium seats and stables far past that. If you go to the right, there's the bar and about half the world's population all crammed in one room. It was hot in there, compared to outside, but I could hardly breathe.

Dally's arm hadn't been around my shoulder for a whole minute now, and he was in the group next to me, taking a swig of beer and telling stories about jumping some Socs. There were some greasers there, too, so the story was appreciated and cheered to for another mug of beer. A guy in about his twenties came up, and he was real muscley, almost like Darry, and put his hand on Dallas' shoulder.

"You won't be riding tonight." And as if on cue, lightening cracked and I heard a few horses slam into their stable walls, trying to escape.

"What?" Everyone in the group fell silent, and Dallas had an unpleased look on his face.

"You should'a signed up sooner, someone filled the last slot of the night. Better luck next time." The man, taller and more bulky than Dallas let go of his shoulder and began to turn. Dallas then put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"No, there's another slot. I'm sure of it. Got my name on it, in permanent marker." His tone was harsh, and he spoke behind a raking jaw.

"Nope. No Dallas Winston on there. Sorry, kid, but you ain't riding tonight." His jaw turned white, and even though I couldn't hear, I knew he was cursing underneath his breath. There were a few curses from the group in quiet protest, as well.

"Let me see that list, Jerry." I almost laughed, his name even rhymed with Darry's. He actually looked like Darry, just uglier. Jerry, apparently the runner of this place or one of them, crossed his arms.

"What for?"

"I just wanna make sure you ain't bullshittin' me." I didn't know what Dallas was going to pull, but I know he didn't sign up today because I've been with him the entire time. Either he got someone to sign it up for him and they failed, or he had something up his sleeve. Jerry took the clipboard from underneath his other slab of pure muscle and passed it to Dallas. He read over the names intently, icy blues having a staring contest with the paper and it was a struggle to tell who would win. Dallas licked his lips, and then grinned smoothly up at Jerry, handing the list back to him.

"Looks like you're right. I ain't ridin' tonight." He forced an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders, and everyone in the group loudly protested and started shoving Jerry gently. He murmured something about rules being rules, and went back towards the stables.

When I looked back, Dallas was shoving his way through the crowd, looking for something. Climbing on top of the bar top, he looked around, and he then cupped his hands around his mouth as he yelled.

"Do we got a MAC DAWSON? MAC?" He got no reply. "BIG MAC FUCKIN' DADDY? Come up here!" His gaze lazily swept over all of the patrons, before one man surfaced, having about the same build as Dallas, and the same height. He was maybe a little taller, and he had a cowboy hat on. Typical. He had at least ten, fifteen years on Dallas, though.

"That's me." Dallas raised his eyebrows, and stepped down from the bar top.

"Yeah, Mac, sorry to tell you, but uh.." He got close enough until their noses nearly touched, except Dallas was shorter than him, so he was looking up with a crooked grin. "You ain't gonna be ridin' tonight."

I gulped. Mac didn't look like he was going to budge. A scowl slowly formed on Mac's face. Mac.. what a dumb name.

"And what if I do?" His voice was old, deep, and booming like the thunder that cracked in the background.

"Well, uh.. I'll just make sure you won't be able to walk to that fuckin' stable." That dangerous grin that I've been seeing quite too often formed on the blonde's face. Another fight? God damn, I've never met anyone who fought so fucking often.

Mac then nodded, almost understandingly, and began to turn as if he were going to walk away. Then quickly, he pulled in a cheap shot -- a quick hood right in the jaw. Dallas knew it was coming, but he took it to prove a point. He halfway twisted around from the impact of the punch, but did not fall nor stumble -- he slowly stood back up with a straight posture, and that grin returned, with a grin redder than before.

Before I knew it, I was being pushed and shoved farther and farther away from Dallas. I shoved back, but it didn't effect the muscle and beer guts that surrounded me. I couldn't see what was going on, but I heard some bottles breaking and some tables or chairs being broken. Some grunts and harsh laughs, and most importantly, flesh pounding against flesh. I kept hopping up to try to get a glimpse of the fight, but I couldn't tell. After no longer than a minute, the sound of a body dropping echoed throughout the bar. I heard raspy panting, and a few cheers here and there. Shit! Who the fuck won!? I almost whined out loud.

"Hey, you okay man?"

"Shit, you're bleeding everywhere!"

"Let me get you a rag!"

"Is that his tooth on the floor?!"

Don't these assholes know how to say his name?! Come on, just say that Dallas won and I can breathe easily. Even though there was no fucking oxygen in this cram-packed place.

People started separating in front of me, and I stood and waited silently in anticipation. And like the gateway to heaven, two men in front of me separated, revealing a bloody, panting Dallas. He was still grinning, but there was blood doing down his lips and his eyebrow was split open. Not severely, but it was still bleeding right next to his eyelid.

"Shit, Dallas, are you okay?!" He looked up, and his grin nearly curled over. His eyes sparked something mischievous, as he brushed past me but shouldered his way through everyone else.

I followed in quick pursuit, wanting to make sure he wasn't bleeding anywhere else. He didn't have a limp, so that was good. He wasn't breathing funny, either than panting kind of hard from just fighting, so his ribs should be alright. He had made his way to the stables, getting out of the rain, where Jerry was brushing one of the horses.

"Jerry, I'm riding." Jerry didn't look back, but he knew it was Dallas.

"We already talked about this, Dallas." He turned to look at him. "And I don't wanna have to explain..." He looked at the teen's bloody lip, and busted eyebrow. ".. What the fuck happened to you?"

"I fell. Poor ol' Mac Dawson slipped and fell in the mud, too. He won't be riding, said I could take his place." Jerry glared at Dallas in disbelief. "Me and Mac are _real_ good buddies. We go _way_ back."

"Yeah, well, I'll have to hear from Mac himself that he won't be riding.." Jerry put the brush on a stack of hay and began to walk past Dallas. He stammered, but then put his hand on Jerry's shoulder.

"Uh, no, he's on his way home. Poor ol' fuck broke his hip or somethin'. You won't be hearing anything from him." Jerry looked pissed. He knew exactly what was going on, but they did now have a slot open and Dallas obviously wanted it.

"Fine, Dallas. You win."

Dallas Winston always got what he wanted.


	13. Chapter 13

You know that saying, "Pain is only weakness leaving the body."? I don't agree with it at all. What if you don't feel the pain? Everyone has a weakness. I just never got around to figuring out what Dallas Winston's weakness was. I have eyes that can see through just about anyone, if I talked to them long enough. Sometimes, I don't have to talk to them at all. But even if I knew Dally's life story, inside and out, I would never know what goes on in his head. Or if anything went on in his head at all. Every single move he made was progressing towards a score that I don't even think he knew about. Maybe I'm just thinking too much, and it was all on pure impulse.

But last time I checked, you don't just beat the hell out of a cowboy with a lot of pals at a rodeo to go ride and bust your head even harder. He was insane.

I followed him into the "cowboy's" bathroom, only being bothered by the rotten stench of a digested breakfast instead of the odd looks I got by the other men in the room. The whole place smelled like horse shit anyway, so this was just a new flavor.

"Didn't know you had a cock, Tobe." Dallas was inspecting his busted eyebrow, picking at it like an unpoppable zit.

"You too, Dal." He was still grinning.

"Well see, I'd prove it to you but I don't want you fainting from shock." He looked at me from the mirror, so I crossed my arms.

"From what? How little it is?" I started laughing out loud, simultaneously ducking a soap dispenser that was chucked at my head. He began inspecting his busted lip.

I approached him, inspecting it as well. He looked so tuff, but I wouldn't tell him that. Some guy shouldered me to get to the sink next to me, and I glared. I shouldn't have been in there in the first place, but the fact that I was just shoved proved that I was unwanted. Rejection in a literal shithole by some fat ten-gallon hat wearing faggot was more than just insulting. So in spite of the sack of filth, I stayed, looking back to Dallas.

"If any of these guys come onto you while I'm out there riding, just tell them you're with me. Lots of drunk fucks around here." He looked to me; I wish I was taller. "Tim Shepard comes around here with his gang every once and a while, too.. OH SHIT, TIM--"

My eyes widened and I quickly turned around. He immediately started laughing, holding his stomach where he had just been punched not even ten minutes earlier. I wanted to slug him myself.

"Fuck you." If I was really mad, I would have stormed out of there, but it made me feel good to see him laugh. Even though it was at my own torment.

"Promises, promises." His teeth were still revealed in a near smile as he passed me, exiting the bathroom. I followed. But then I figured I had been following him enough for the past fucking twenty minutes, so I stopped following, and got lost in the crowd.

Since he was the only one I knew there, though, I had still watched him from afar. I was in a less populated corner, observing the center of the room, where he was placed as the center of attention as well. I liked seeing Dallas in this new light. Even though he still fought, still cussed, and still tortured me, he was much happier. Kind of like how I love to see Two-Bit genuinely laugh when sober, or when I make Johnny laugh. I normally was able to do that at least daily, or once every few days, but this was the first time I saw Dallas in a state of something close to happiness.

Although I knew, deep down, that if he let himself think that he would end up hurting. He would end up being cold and hateful again. Maybe if Dallas hurt, he would open up to me. Just a little bit.

Shit, I was only dreaming. The day Dallas Winston opens up to me is the day that the Beatles beat Elvis at karaoke night. It just wasn't gonna happen.

I was a social hermit, cramped up in the literal corner seat at the darkest end of the bar. A few guys worked up the courage to try and loosen me up with some booze, but I cussed at them until they got the point that that would be the only thing they would be hearing from this mouth. I didn't feel like dealing with people, really; the stuffy environment had bothered me something awful. I just wanted to see Dallas ride and get it over with.

A half hour passed, and I amused myself with thoughts of him riding gallantly into the night on a horse, the moon glistening on his skin posing as shining armor. His icy blues never once looking back into the haunting past, because all there was ahead of him was a future. It was a dark, gloomy future that could not have been predicted, but it was a hell of a lot better than the bloody past.

I was nice enough to one guy who approached me so I could bum a cigarette. The rain was pouring, now, and three riders had already gone. Dallas didn't bother watching one; he was confident. He knew he was going to win. We all did. We were just waiting for the inevitable.

I felt myself zone out from time to time. I didn't like my general mood today; I didn't feel much. I think that ever since I passed out when Two-Bit slung me into the alley that I've been feeling funny. I'll catch myself staring at a tabletop or a sidewalk or my own sneakers for a second and realize that I had been doing so for minutes, or even hours.

Every single string of thoughts that connect in my mind have all became so routine to me that everything was casual. The fact that I had almost gotten raped was casual. The fact that I was so easily falling for Dallas Winston was casual. My mom is dead and gone, casual. My father don't give a shit about me unless I'm around to be a punching bag, casual. This entirely new life, with these new friends and these unique and ridiculous people, all casual. Everything was already normal, and dawn has turned to day. Even sunsets have lost their significance, and I hated them anyway. When the world beats you up too much, you learn to harden yourself beyond caring. You numb yourself against the world so that everything is normal, and you see things like this everyday. A punch in the face is just as common as a greeting or a farewell, and there are no new heartaches. I don't know if it's because no one in the entire world cares anymore, or if it's because everyone in the entire world cares but they hide it deep inside of themselves. Behind humor or coldness.

The cigarette -- ironically, it was a Winston brand -- snapped me out of my zone by burning the shit out of my fingertips. I had felt it growing warm vaguely, like I was watching myself through binoculars from a mile away, but I didn't move until the ember singed through my own flesh. I quickly shook it out of my hand, and then stomped on the sparks before it reached dry wood or any straws of hay laying around. It was burned right on the bone, red.

I concluded that after watching Dallas hop up on top of the biggest, meanest horse in the entire place with one hand gripped on the rope and the other high above him, that everyone cared, deep down. They don't have to care about everything -- shit, they don't have to care about anything, but one thing. At least one thing keeps them going in life. Everyone has a weakness. Everyone has a reason, too.

If I was thinking shallowly, I could confidently say that Dallas Winston's reason for surviving was to ride in rodeos. I couldn't see his eyes through all of the rain that poured down and covered me, but I knew they were glowing. My vision was blurred and I shivered at the cold water trickling down my back, but I felt a little warmth coming from somewhere. I don't know where.

Maybe he lives for action. For something new, and exciting.

I would say that there isn't many more exciting things than holding onto a buckwild stallion seemingly ten tons in muscle, as it pounded itself inside of the mud and lashed violently in abstract formations. To try and get rid of Dallas as if he were flea-ridden and foaming, the horse slammed its body against the fences to throw him off. He shifted, but he did not fall off completely. I heard some whooping and hollering from some people behind me.

"Shit, he passed the record time!"

"He needs to get the hell off that thing!"

"It's gonna trample him!"

Some were yelling in protest as the rain poured on top of their cowboy hat rims, pointed leather boots and coarse bronzed skin. It was odd, watching Dallas being lashed back and forth and sideways and up and down and just about every single angle that he possibly could -- it wouldn't be surprising if he would have broken his back before he even hit the ground.

My heart began racing, as I sensed the danger in both of their movements. It seemed like an eternity that he was on there, as people rushed towards the fences to scream at him even more. We all knew he would win before, I didn't see why we were all frantic now that he won. People like talking about things, but when people go through with them they act like they were speaking another language the whole time.

Finally, with one quick slam and a snap of part of the fence, Dallas flew off of the horse out of the ring, and landed in some mud with a twist and a roll. I ran towards him, my sneakers sinking into the mud with each step.

"Dallas!" I wasn't the only one who yelled his name. People were right behind me, coming to his side as well as I did. I was the closest, with my knees now squishing inside of the dirt and water mix.

He was on his side, but his arm was twisted over, limp, almost as if he had no control over it. It was the way he had landed, and almost every inch of him was covered in mud. A few spots on his neck, face and hair were left untouched, and I secretly wanted to wash away the rest of the dirt that clung to him. He wasn't moving.

It was hard to tell if he was breathing with all of the rain pouring down, as it had began to already clean him a little.. or at least make him a little more slippery. I gently placed my hand upon his neck, as if he were made of porcelain. I didn't see his eyes open at first, behind all the mud, and my face was already close enough to his.

"Shit, Tobe, takin' advantage of a guy while he's knocked out?" I quickly pulled away, as he slowly sat up, grinning like he had usually been doing lately. Everyone around us were talking and yelling at him, but I knew that neither of us were listening. "Pretty fuckin' desperate."

I almost wanted to cry. He probably thought I was, with all the rain running down my face. I was frowning on accident anyway, and Dallas noticed because that grin was almost wiped clean. But there was nothing clean on that dirty son of a bitch anyway.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please R&R! Criticism appreciated.


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